


Shelter from the Storm

by ShadowSpires



Series: Countdown to Clone Wars 2020 [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, The Angst Tries to get them but I Valiantly Held It Off, cuddling for warmth, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowSpires/pseuds/ShadowSpires
Summary: It wasn’t Hoth, but J8-93 was a miserable freezing pit of a planet anyway. Cody's not going to let his General get away with being ridiculous and self-sacrificing when the solution isright there.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Countdown to Clone Wars 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612177
Comments: 10
Kudos: 296





	Shelter from the Storm

“Cody, really, I have a sleep-sack and a heater, I’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said, digging his heels in ineffectually against the pull of Cody’s hand around his upper arm, sliding a little in the ice that had already formed in the twenty minutes since the sun had dipped down past the lip of the cave they were camping out in.

It wasn’t Hoth, but J8-93 was a miserable freezing pit of a planet anyway, and Cody was absolutely refusing to take no for an answer as Obi-Wan tried to set himself up in a tent of his own, instead of bedding down in the tent all the vode were packing into.

“I have no desire to thaw my General out of a block of ice in the morning, sir,” was Cody’s rebuttal, not even pausing as he continued to pull Obi-Wan towards the warm light radiating off the walls of the tent. “We have a dozen sleep-sacks, six heaters, and a whole pile of vode. Thirteen sacks, and seven heaters, with yours. This is the more tactically sound arrangement.”

“Cody—“ There was an edge of the  _ General _ in Obi-Wan’s voice, and Cody stopped pulling, released his arm, and spun to face him at parade rest. Obi-Wan pulled up short both at the loss of the band of warmth of Cody’s hand even through his suit, and at the blatant implication Cody was making that he would have to make it an  _ order _ for Cody to go along with this.

“ _ Cody _ ,” he repeated again, more softly, reaching out and laying a gloved hand against the cheek-plate of the armor that was as much his love’s face as the flesh and blood one underneath, unique and dear. “Dear one, our men have too little that is uniquely theirs, and the closeness of each other is one of those things. I do not want to intrude. I will be fine in my tent.”

Cody softened. Even without the feel of him in the Force, his emotions warming like embers in a fire, Obi-Wan could tell. The lines of his posture dipped, shoulders curving down into Obi-Wan’s space, bucket pressed into his hand. The intimate curl of armor was so clear to the Jedi’s eyes, yet so inscrutable to those who did not care to learn even the first thing about these incredible men he’s been blessed by the Force to know.

Blessed, and cursed.

Blessed by their presence, their bright Light, like a starfield in his senses, each one of them as precious and unique as every star in the clear night sky, as different, and housing an infinite potential.

Cursed, to be forced to send such bright lights into battle, to dim and falter and die in the name of Duty, and a Republic which every day Obi-Wan felt was less and less worth the sacrifice.

Cody’s forehead came to rest against his, the freezing press of metal against his skin bolting a shiver through Obi-Wan, like premonition, like the feel of the Force reaching back, like all the things it had shown him over the years that he  _ did not want to know. _

Obi-Wan pushed into the contact anyway, pushed forward, pushed past it, refused to let the shadowy promises of the future invade this moment. The Force was constantly whispering these days, a confused muddle, darkened by death, by hopelessness and fear and a Galaxy choking on a Darkness they  _ could not find. _

But Cody had no part in that, and Obi-Wan would not let it interfere.

Cody hummed a quiet noise as Obi-Wan pressed into the contact, content and unbothered in this moment by the movement of the forces underlying the galaxy. There was no enemy to fight here, no struggle to be had, just the comfort of brothers around him and the quiet moments to enjoy the time with his beloved. He was reaching out, welcoming Obi-Wan to join him in that quiet peaceful state. A soldier's readiness, always, but a readiness to take peace in its time, and struggle when it comes, and enjoy them both with everything in him.

"You won't intrude,  _ ner'ika _ ," Cody told him, responding to Obi-Wan's concern, voice warm and low, sliding his hands around Obi-Wan to pull him close against him. Cold armor like an anchor, warming where Obi-Wan touches it. Something left better for his touch, rather than shattered to pieces around him. "After all, are you not  _ our _ General? Not also 'uniquely ours?' I want you with us. We want you with us. I won't force you to join all the  _ vode _ in our tent if it makes you uncomfortable. But don't freeze on account of an imagined need for distance, when we'd rather have you close, when we want to know you are warm and safe and  _ with _ us.”

Obi-Wan sighed, but how could he resist that? He has never been able to resist being needed. Being  _ wanted _ is more irresistible still, and something Cody never failed to make him feel. He only hoped that Cody understood how much Obi-Wan wanted and needed him in turn. 

He sighed deeply, but he knew Cody could hear the grateful surrender behind the mock long-suffering sound.    
  
“Okay, dearest. You win. I’ll come bed with you for the night.”   
  
Cody hummed, pleased, and Obi-Wan could feel it vibrate through the external speakers, in his love’s chest, and in the Force. 

“ _ We _ win,  _ ner’ika, _ ” He corrected, full of quiet confidence and warmth. Not quite making promises none of them could, but hinting at a hoped-for future. “Come on, before Boil steals the best spot.” 

Obi-Wan laughed, and walked with Cody into the warm tent, to be greeted by warmth and welcoming murmurs which embraced them both. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ner'ika is Arwen00710 and my bastardaized Mando’a for “my own,” an endearment we’re both ridiculously fond of.


End file.
